


Library

by lunaisfree



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:45:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4356746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaisfree/pseuds/lunaisfree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting it on. 2000 word fic for the Inception 5 year anniversary fanbook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Library

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to castillon and earlgreytea68 for beta reading. Castillon helped me from the very start when this little piece pie was just bruised and beat. It got all cleaned up and awesome because of them. And Earlgreytea68 did a final read and clean up which wasn't as bad as usually thanks to the earlier help, but I can say that I couldn't have done it without any of my betas and I'm so happy they took time out of there days to look over this. I hope we can work together again!

Arthur knows they're fucking. He hears the girl's soft moans near the World Religions section of the library. He's positive he wouldn’t mind the vanilla smell of old books or the feeling of cold metal shelves biting into his palms. There's no romance in hearing it though, especially when he's not the only one in the library; it's awkward for the patron who sits three tables down from his, too. The man flushes at Arthur when they both hear the participating man's grunt go a little louder and hear the shelves shake even harder. Neither of them can see the couple, but they know the highlight of the event has been reached.

Chuckling, the man rolls his shoulders and looks back at his work, giving Arthur a moment to truly study him. He's gruff-looking, not bearish but more pit bull gruff; there's softness in his scruffy face and his dark honey-colored hair. He's got thin rimmed glasses and they make it hard for Arthur to decide how old he is. The man’s thick shoulders and arms make it look like he works out a lot. From what Arthur can see, both of his biceps are covered in tattoos; thick, dark ink that spikes more interest in Arthur.

The couple stumbles out of one of the rows and the man's head pops up, causing Arthur to quickly, and noticeably, look away. Bashfully, the couple walks past the tables and towards the downstairs exit, leaving Arthur's skin slightly crawling. He looks back down to his work and lets out a long sigh.

"A little bit overwhelming, that love making was."

Arthur jumps, hitting his knees on the table and wincing to look up at the tattooed man, glasses removed, and who is unforgivably breaking his personal bubble.

"Sorry there, the name's Eames," laughs Eames, surprising Arthur with a British accent. "I couldn't help noticing you were looking at me a second ago. Staring, really."

Blinking, Arthur scowls, but the man sits down, letting all his work fall onto Arthur’s table in a mess.

"Arthur, and I wasn't, do you mind at all, your stuff is-" Arthur gestures at the pens and papers that have overlapped his. Face feeling hot, he tries not to look too awkward, but he feels limp in his movements as he starts pulling his work towards himself.

"Darling, we just got done listening to two freshmen shagging, you don't need to be bashful." Eames leans back in the chair, his shirt stretching over his wide chest.

He looks absolutely sinful.

"Yes, well," Arthur starts throwing his stuff into his backpack, doing his best not to look at the Brit in interest, "freshmen will do what they do."

Pouting, Eames leans forward. "Where are you going, darling? We've only just met, you can't leave."

"Oh yes, I can. I'm sorry, Mr. Eames," Arthur stands up, brushing his hair back, "but I have work to do."

Eames studies him all over, making Arthur bite his lip in want. The motion is caught by Eames, staring at Arthur’s mouth. Arthur does his best not to flush all over but he feels his cheeks heat up. Fumbling with the strap on his bag and then half-bows, saying, "Well, this was fun, see you around."

As soon as he’s out of sight he hits himself over the head, briskly walking away, whispering to himself, "Why the fuck did I bow?"

  
-

  
Eames waits, like a lion stalking prey. Perhaps that makes him a female lion, he thinks; the males don't do much, the lazy brutes. He watches by the window as Arthur laughs with a friend. They're at a wine and cheese tasting for juniors and seniors. Although Eames is neither, he's the new acting lit professor, he has to be there. A woman he recognizes, Mal, leans against Arthur and laughs, her curls coming loose from her bun, and Eames is astounded. Mal runs the music department at the school and it's well known that she only hangs around the most talented students.

He sees his chance and slinks forward, his smile stretching on his face like the Cheshire Cat. "Professor Cobb, astoundingly beautiful as always." He reaches for her hand and pecks it.

"Oh, Eames! You flatter me, as you should." Giggling, she turns her head towards Arthur, who's frowning a bit.

"Where is your other half, angel?" Eames asks.

"Dom is with Philippa tonight; he knows how much I adore wine, and I didn't want Arthur here to come alone." She wraps her arm around the young man's shoulder and shakes him slightly.

Raising an eyebrow, Eames holds out his hand. "Arthur, darling, a pleasure to see you again, pet."

"Mr. Eames," Arthur says curtly.

"Just Eames."

"Hmm, are you settling in well, or do you need help?” Curiosity gets the better of Arthur. “You are the new acting teacher, correct?"

"Yes. You're a student here, going for a doctorate?"

Arthur makes a sour face while Mal starts to laugh.

"No, I'm a professor."

Eames chokes on his sip of wine and glares at it as if it's the reason for his embarrassment. "I apologize, you just look so young, darling."

“Isn’t he?” Mal reaches to twist a curl into Arthur's hair.

"I’m only just twenty-six,” Arthur says, “this is my second year as a professor. I started college at a very young age.” He hums, batting his friend's hand away. "I am one of the strictest teachers at our school. You could say I wanted to assert my dominance as quickly as possible."

"Ah, so you're a dominant teacher, are you?" purrs Eames with a small wink.

"Well," Arthur says, and blushes, reaching to loosen his tie as his face reddens.

"Oh, he's a grinch, Eames." Mal smiles, rolling her eyes. "All the young girls and boys love him, though."

"Mal, maybe you should get more wine, your glass is empty," Arthur says.

"Anything for you, you wonderful man." She pats Arthur's arm and winks at Eames before turning to go get more wine.

"You'll make her too drunk to walk if you fill her up anymore," laughs Eames.

"I'll call her a cab or drive her myself," mumbles Arthur as he watches his friend begin to pick on some poor soul. "I was afraid she'd embarrass me if she stayed over here."

"Is there something embarrassing I should know about?"

"Maybe." Arthur looks back at Eames offering a small smirk, then after a moment he says, "I'm sorry I left so suddenly the other day; I was incredibly busy."

"Ah, so if you hadn't been incredibly busy you would have stayed?"

"I might have."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I catch you in the library."

Arthur's cheeks flush from wine and humor. "Maybe next time you can help me look for reading material."

Eames snorts, "Are you offering to go exploring in the shelves with me?"

"And what if I am?" challenges Arthur.

"I thought you expressed the other day that that was something freshmen did."

Arthur moves close enough for their shoulders to brush together, and presses his wine glass into Eames's free hand. "As far as I'm concerned, being a first year teacher here makes you a freshman."

Eames jests, "I'm hardly a youngster, and you're hardly older than me, darling."

"Yes, you prove that by using the word ‘youngster.’" Rolling his eyes, Arthur turns to scan the tasting to check on Mal.

"Are you making fun of me?" Eames asks.

"Just trying to get to know the new kid." Quickly, Arthur glances at Eames to crook his first smile solely for him, dimples showing and all, then it's gone.

Eames’s eyebrows rise. "Perhaps you should call Mal that cab, we could get to know each other a little more somewhere else."

  
-

  
Later, they're both trying to catch their breath on the carpet floor of the library. The lights from outside cast enough light for them to see the gleam of sweat on each other’s skin. Arthur's back is pressed against the cold metal of a bottom shelf, giving him a bit of comfort from the heat still moving through his body. Eames watches him squirm against it with amusement and scoots over just a bit so Arthur can let his legs bend out. Stretching, they both chuckle and giggle when their bones pop and crack in relief. Arthur reaches over to run the tips of his fingers over Eames’s stomach.

"That tickles!" Eames gasps.

"Mmm, sorry."

"Liar, you're not sorry at all."

"You're right, I'm not." Arthur sticks his tongue out and it's met with another.

The two men giggle like teenagers.

"We just snuck into a college library to have sex in the moonlight like lovestruck kids."

"Yes, how very romantic, darling." Eames moves on his side to kiss Arthur's shoulder.

They lay there quietly for a bit, twisting their fingers together and sharing quiet kisses in an unspoken agreement of comfort and familiarity. Although Arthur is clearly not ashamed by their intimate acts, Eames can tell that he is also not the type of person who usually sneaks into libraries to have sex, and he respects the way that Arthur stays next to him instead of dressing and running. It makes his slight crush on the younger man a little bigger.

"Could I ask you something?" Eames asks.

"Don't become bashful now, Mr. Eames."

"Alright," Eames rolls onto his shoulder, "I was wondering," he moves a hand over Arthur's thigh, rubbing the skin with his thumb, "what class do you teach?"

Arthur lets out a shaky breath at the soft sensation and presses closer to the older man. "It's called Psychology of Play, and it's all about the right side of the brain. How different emotions affect what we see, how diseases affect our mind. It's all about creativity and understanding the human need for it."

"Ah."

"I think you'd like it, Mr. Eames-" Arthur's breath hitches slightly as Eames moves his hands against Arthur’s lower stomach softly.

"I'm sure I would." Sighing lowly, Eames moves his arm around Arthur's torso and pulls him closer.

"Is that all you wanted to ask?"

"Well, no, but darling, I'm not sure how you view this encounter, so I don't want to overstep my bounds.” Eames arches his eyebrows and Arthur realizes that the older man is afraid that this is a one time thing.

Arthur tries to laugh lightly and make him feel less worried. "You're fine."

"Then would you mind if I took you out sometime? I know earlier this evening you had liquid courage," Arthur smacks him softly,"but I was hoping I could take you out since we're colleagues."

"Well, is being colleagues your only intention?"

"You're right, I did just sleep with you, I've gotten all I want now."

Arthur turns more to glare at him. "That's not funny."

"Sorry," Eames says unapologetically, "my intentions are to become more than colleagues. I've just met you two days ago, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't ask for your hand right away."

Arthur laughs.

"I have a very specific checklist for marriage candidates. Being good in the sack is already checked off the list, so you don't need to worry too much, darling."

Arthur snorts a bit. "Yes, pfff, you've convinced me. If I've already got being good in the sack checked off then I won't have to participate for a while with you in bed."

"Ouch!" Eames mockingly puts a hand over his heart. "I wasn't that bad, was I? My rotary function may be off; we are on the floor of a library."

"Your rotary function?!" Arthur laughs more, his eyes crinkling and his dimples showing in all their beauty.

"Yes, darling, my rotary function."

"You're not a boat, it's physically impossible to have rotary motion in your-"

"Arthur, don't break my dreams."

Arthur snorts again while laughing, then nods his head. "Yes, Mr. Eames, you can take me out some time."


End file.
